by Pamela Clare
She took one out, opened it.
“They’re just old interviews. I’m tossing them in the recycling.”
She shook her head. “You can’t do that. You’re on the cover.”
“I don’t want them.” There was an edge to his voice.
“Can I take them?”
He faced her, apparently not happy with that idea. “What would you do with them? You’re not into climbing, and you don’t need to read them because you can ask me anything you want.”
Okay, fine. “Why are you all tense and angry?”
He frowned. “I’m not angry.”
“Right.” She scooped up the magazines and carried them out of the kitchen and toward the front door. “I’ll donate these to the Scarlet Springs Library.”
He followed. “The library isn’t going to want this shit.”
“Not true. You’re local, and you’re kind of a big deal.”
“That’s in the past.”
“Well, Silas Moffat is dead, so he’s a lot more in the past than you are. Joe still donated his journals to the library.”
“That’s different.”
“You’re right. Silas was a murdering jerk, and you’re a hero to a lot of people.” Kenzie dropped the stack of magazines next to her handbag.
“I’m not a hero.”
She opened the closet door to get her coat. “Thanks for a fun day. I really did enjoy myself.”
He shut the door. “What’s going on, Kenzie?”
“That’s what I tried to ask you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Okay, so she would have to go first. “I’m angry because you won’t be honest with me.”
He narrowed his eyes, shook his head, as if he wasn’t quite keeping up with her. “I won’t … what?”
She took the plunge. “You’re sorry you kissed me, aren’t you?”
He gaped at her, then laughed as if she’d said something hilarious. He drew her into his arms, kissed the top of her head. “No, I’m not sorry—not for that. But that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do.”
“I was right. You’re sorry.”
He let her go. “My life—it’s fucked up right now. I can’t seem to get my act together. I don’t have a job. I don’t have my own home. I’m not even sure I’m going to stay in Colorado. I don’t want to drag you into my mess. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
Did he mean this, or was he just trying to let her down easy?
“Let me decide what’s fair to me, okay?” Wait. What had he just said? “You’re thinking of leaving Scarlet?”
“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know.” He let out a breath, ran a hand over the stubble on his jaw, his gaze falling on the magazine on the top of her pile, the one with a photo of him with his climbing buddy, Bruce, who’d died on Everest.
A muscle in his jaw tightened.
The good old days.
That’s what Rose had said to him while holding up that exact magazine.
For someone who claimed to be a psychic, a therapist, a witch, a healer, an energy worker, and God only knew what else, Rose could be an insensitive ass at times.
You’re not much better.
Kenzie was thinking about herself, while Harrison struggled with his grief.
Heart aching for him, she reached out, took his hand. “Give yourself time. You’ll get through this. You have friends here, people who care about you. I’m one of them.”
“Thanks for your help today.” He released her hand, took her coat out of the closet, and held it up for her.
“You’re welcome.” She slipped her arms into the sleeves and turned to face him. “Can I come by to check on Gabby tomorrow?”
She’d be checking on him, too, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Sure. Come any time.” He drew her close, ducked down, pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “See? I can’t help myself.”
She liked hearing that. “Then don’t. Don’t help yourself.”
He drew away again, ran his thumb down her cheek, his expression troubled. “You’re beautiful, Kenzie. You’re smart and fun. But I don’t think I’d be good for you.”
She heard the despair in his voice and was sure now that he wasn’t just saying this to spare her feelings. He truly believed it. “How about this? Kiss me whenever you want, and we’ll take it a day at a time.”
Conrad rolled over, drew a pillow over his head, but it was no good. He’d been a bastard and had made Gabby sleep in her crate, which meant that her crying had kept him awake. Now she was waking him up.
He sat up, glanced at the clock. Six a.m. “Don’t you sleep?”
Gabby wagged her tail, nose pressed through the front bars of her crate.
“It’s a good thing you’re cute.”
To be fair, the puppy wasn’t the only thing that had kept him awake. Kissing Kenzie had left him so horny that he’d had to beat off to get to sleep. Even then, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He’d tried to blame two years of celibacy, but he knew that wasn’t it.
He wanted Kenzie.
“Kiss me whenever you want,” she’d said, her words following him into sleep.
Yeah, well, that would certainly keep them both busy.
He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. He didn’t want to freak out the neighbor lady again. Then he lifted Gabby out of her crate and carried her to the back door, grabbing his parka along the way. Outside, the first snow of the season lay on the ground. Just a dusting, it barely covered the grass.
“I’m not sure you’re going to like this, but you still have to do your business outside. Got that?”
Gabby looked up at him, tail wagging.
He opened the screen door, laughing when she darted outside—and came to an abrupt halt. “Yep. Snow. You live in the mountains. Get used to it.”
The puppy sniffed the snow, barked at it.
Yeah, that was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “It’s okay. It’s just snow.”
Kenzie hadn’t told Conrad what to do in case of snow, and he wasn’t going to call her at this hour on a Sunday to ask.
He spotted a shovel leaning against the wall near the back door to the garage. “I have an idea. Hang on, Gabby.”
He grabbed the shovel and cleared the snow off a few square feet of grass, then watched while Gabby took a few tentative steps, sniffed, and finally did her thing. He gave her a treat, praised her. “Good job, Gabby. Good girl.”
The puppy couldn’t get back inside fast enough.
“I suppose you’re hungry, too.”
She looked up at him expectantly, little tail wagging.
“Okay. How do eggs Benedict and coffee sound? No? Okay, kibble it is then.”
He mixed kibble with warm water and set the bowl on the floor, wondering whether he should try to get more sleep or whether he should suck it up and make coffee. He looked down at Gabby. “Are you ready to go back to bed?”
She picked up her favorite squeak toy.
“Okay, fine. Let’s play. Who needs sleep?”
He played with the puppy and took her out into the snow again, both for a potty break and so that she could start getting used to it. When she was worn out, he made himself a big pot of coffee and got to work breaking down cardboard boxes and straightening up the place. Kenzie would be dropping by later, and he didn’t want her to think he was a lazy slob—even if that’s precisely what he was.
If it weren’t for the puppy, he would still be in bed.
He got a text message from Kenzie just after nine asking him how the night had gone and how Gabby had handled the snow. He answered, sending her another photo of the puppy, curled up and sound asleep.
See you at 2?
Sure.
Conrad crashed for a while, getting a little sleep, and then it was time to meet Esri. He packed the puppy’s crate, grabbed his laptop with his photographs of Tengboche, and drove with Gabby to the café. Snow had transformed the Indian Peaks, which rose like white titans against a blue sky.
&nbs
p; He would never get tired of that view.
He found Esri waiting for them at a table near a sunny window.
She stood, gave Conrad a hug. “I thought the puppy might like some sunshine.”
“She didn’t know what to make of the snow this morning.” Conrad settled Gabby and then ordered himself more coffee—yes, God, please—and the eggs Benedict he’d been thinking about all morning.
Esri ordered fruit and a chai. “I’m sure you’ve got some mixed memories of Tengboche, but I’d love to hear whatever you care to share with me about life there.”
Conrad showed her photos and told her how the monks had taken him in and let him have a small room so that he didn’t have to live year-round in his tent. He told her about the monks’ daily routine and his conversations with the Lama. He told her about the work he’d done for them and for some of the villagers.
As he spoke, he could almost smell the incense, hear the monks chanting, and feel the cold wind on his face.
“The view from the monastery—Ama Dablam, Lhotse, Everest…” A rush of emotion, unexpected and unwelcome, made his throat go tight. “I looked up at Everest every day, knowing they were still there. Somehow, being nearby made it seem like I hadn’t left them behind. But now…”
He swallowed—hard. “I think some part of me kept waiting for them to walk into Tengboche and ask me why I’d gone on without them. That probably sounds stupid.”
Keep it together, idiot.
Esri shook her head. “No, it doesn’t.”
He cleared his throat, fought to rein in his emotions. He was not going to break down in front of Esri. “Sorry. This wasn’t supposed to turn into a therapy session.”
Esri gave his hand a squeeze. “No worries. We’re just two friends talking. I really appreciate everything you’ve told me. I’ve always wanted to visit Tengboche, and now I have through your eyes. Thank you.”
“Is that invitation to join you for meditation still open?” Meditation was the only way he’d been able to escape his emotions when he’d been at the monastery.
Esri smiled. “Always.”
Chapter 8
Kenzie cleaned her house and then went grocery shopping, as she always did on Sunday morning. When she’d gotten everything on her list—thank goodness she’d remembered it this time—she made her way back to the pharmacy to get condoms.
Do you truly need them, or are you trying to create the illusion that something exciting is happening with your love life?
Hey, Harrison had kissed her. She hadn’t imagined that.
Yes, but will he do it again?
He’d said he couldn’t help himself, and that right there was reason to hope—and reason enough to buy condoms.
She looked at all the different kinds of condoms, wondering what kind he might prefer and what size he’d need. He was not a small guy. She’d been able to feel that through his jeans.
Ribbed. Extra lubrication. Twisted. Flavored. Extra thin. Tingles.
Warmth spread between her thighs at the idea of Harrison sheathed in one of these and thrusting into her.
Stop. Just stop.
Uncomfortably horny now, she grabbed a package that claimed to be extra thin and had an XL label and dropped it into her shopping cart.
In the checkout lane, she found herself standing behind Kendra Jewell, Lexi’s stepmother. Kendra turned, glanced into her cart, and smiled. “I hear you and that sexy bastard Harrison Conrad are an item. Extra-large? I’m not surprised.”
With the condoms sitting right there in plain sight, Kenzie didn’t try to explain. Denials would only make things worse.
Sometimes living in a small town sucked.
“Rose has been busy, hasn’t she?”
Kendra laughed. “Always.”
After Kenzie had gotten everything home and put away, she dropped Gizmo off with Inéz at the kennel and made the short drive to Harrison’s house, a couple of condoms in her handbag. Better safe than sorry.
He answered the door in a pair of low-slung jeans and a black, cable-knit sweater, his long, dark hair and the stubble on his jaw giving him a bad-boy look that all but made her knees go weak. “Hey.”
He smiled, but there were shadows in his eyes. “Hey.”
Kenzie stepped into the warmth to see Gabby bounding across the carpet toward her. She scooped up the excited fluffball, accepting puppy kisses. “How’s my baby girl?”
“She misses you.”
“I miss her, too. Are you behaving for Uncle Harrison?”
Lips that had kissed her senseless curved in a grin. “No accidents today. She slept in her crate last night, which means I didn’t sleep much at all. She’s been out in the snow a few times to go potty. I shoveled off a bit of grass for her because she didn’t want to walk on it.”
“Great idea. See, Harrison? You’re a natural at this.” Kenzie snuggled the puppy close. “Snow is new to you, isn’t it, Gabby?”
“She slept for most of the time I was at New Moon with Esri.”
Kenzie was relieved to know he’d spoken with Esri today. “How did that go?”
“We talked about life at the monastery. That’s about it.” His tone of voice made it clear that he didn’t want to say more.
“Can I help with anything?” The moving boxes were gone, and the place looked clean and organized.
He shook his head. “I’m good. I got a lot done last night and this morning.”
“Maybe we can take Gabby outside and play in the snow a bit. If she’s going to do avalanche work, she needs to feel comfortable in snow.”
Charlie, an avy dog Kenzie had trained, had saved a man’s life a couple winters past. Kenzie wanted Gabby to have the same abilities.
Kenzie waited with the puppy by the back door while Harrison put on his parka and grabbed Gabby’s squeak toy.
Once outside, Kenzie walked far out into the yard, away from Gabby’s shoveled potty spot, and set the puppy down in the snow.
Gabby sniffed the snow and then picked up one front paw, looking up at Kenzie as if pleading to be picked up again.
“It’s just snow. Snow is fun.”
Harrison knelt down a few feet away and gave the squeak toy a few squeezes. “Come here, Gabby, girl.”
Gabby took a few tentative steps in his direction, churning up snow as she moved. She seemed to notice the flying snow—and then she went bonkers.
She ran to Harrison, got down into a “let’s play” stance, and barked. Then she took off running around the yard as fast as her little legs would carry her, a furry torpedo, kicking up snow as she ran.
Harrison chuckled. “That’s the cutest damned thing I’ve ever seen.”
He took a little bit of snow, turned it into a tiny snowball, and tossed it into Gabby’s path. The puppy tried to catch it with her jaws, but the snow crumbled. She barked, growling as she danced around biting at the snow, trying to find her new toy.
Harrison laughed, tossed another.
Gabby bit it and jumped about, tail wagging, snow sticking to her muzzle.
The game went on, Kenzie laughing along with Harrison, her heart lifting to see him enjoying the moment, whatever had been troubling him forgotten—at least for now. But this was hard work for Gabby, and soon, she trotted over to Harrison and put a paw on his thigh, asking to be picked up.
“I think we wore her out.”
He scooped her up, brushed her off. “You know what, Gabby? You’re a badass.”
The neighbor’s back door opened, and an older woman Kenzie vaguely recognized stepped outside and headed toward her wood pile. She glared at Harrison, then looked sharply at Kenzie.
“I knew your grandparents, Miss Morgan. I don’t think they would approve of you spending time with a man of this sort.” With that, she filled her arms with firewood and disappeared indoors.
Kenzie looked over at Harrison. “What was that about? What have you been doing to that poor woman?”
“I came outside naked once when Gabby had to go, and t
he old lady opened her curtains and saw me.”
Kenzie gaped at him. “You were outside naked? As in buck naked? That’s bananas. Why would you do that?”
“Gabby couldn’t wait, and it was five in the morning. I had no idea she was an early bird. Honestly, she must have craned her head to see me.” Harrison chuckled, heading for the back door, Gabby in his arms. “She called my junk frank and beans.”
“Frank and beans?” Okay, that was funny.
But now Kenzie was jealous of that old lady, too.
Conrad looked into his pantry, in search of something decent to make for lunch. “I could open a couple of cans of soup.”
That’s how you impress a woman—canned soup.
Kenzie stood and walked to his fridge. “I got you shrimp, pasta, and stuff to make marinara sauce.”
“You did?”
“Didn’t you look?” She opened the freezer door and pulled out a bag of cooked, frozen shrimp. “If you haven’t used the crushed tomatoes and the pasta, we should be good. I’ll need an onion and some garlic, too.”
He turned back to the pantry, found the crushed tomatoes and the pasta.
She set the frozen shrimp down on the kitchen counter, then walked back to the fridge. “Put those in a colander and run cold water over them, and I’ll start the sauce.”
Instead of doing what she asked, he stood there like an idiot, watching while she bent over and searched the vegetable crispers for the other ingredients. No, he wasn’t watching her. He was watching her ass.
Way to make your mama proud, man.
He tore his gaze off her, set the pasta and tomatoes on the counter, and went in search of a colander, looking through Mrs. Beech’s cupboards. Pots and pans. Mixing bowls. Glassware. “How many pie plates does one person need?”
“Maybe Mrs. Beech—” Kenzie’s Team pager went off. “Damn.”
She drew it out of her pocket, scrolled through the message. “Sorry, but I have to go. You can thaw the shrimp under cold water, pat them dry, and sauté them in butter and garlic. Then just sauté the onion, and—”
“I’ll go with you.”